


The Best Laid Schemes

by snarkymonkey



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Eredhon has Sealed his Fate, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Mirkwood Trash Squad, also sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-19
Updated: 2015-04-19
Packaged: 2018-03-24 20:16:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3783004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarkymonkey/pseuds/snarkymonkey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eredhon has a habit of bed hopping and it's one he's quite prideful of.  There are a few he's not rolled with though and frankly, going for a toss with Galion was meant to be a lark.  Strange how things don't always go as we plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Best Laid Schemes

     Eredhon didn’t necessarily make it the day’s motive to find a new bedmate but when it was the quiet of winter and boredom filled the air, well, one couldn’t very well blame him for doing so.  He pondered inviting an elf he’d already rolled with but the thrill wouldn’t be as heady.  Which meant, time for a new victim.

     He leaned back in his chair, booted feet on the table, tossing an apple in his hands as he let his eyes rove around the crowd.  Ruel at his side picked up quickly and snickered.

     “Not even noon and bored already, ‘Redh?”  She slid the whetstone along her dagger.  “You need a new hobby.”

     Eredhon shrugged.  “I rather enjoy this one, thank you.”  He realized with a touch of annoyance, he’d bedded most of the squad by this point.  He might have to branch out to the serving staff for his little game.   Well, he could try to snare Orelion finally.  Though, the bastard was often too smitten by Elros to truly respond.  Plus, there was the pesky reality that Orelion would put a dagger in his ear if he tried.  Or Elros would.  Anyone’s guess, really.

     He gave Elros a glance, where the elf perched half-asleep beside him.  Still, even antagonizing the duo would be a good way to pass the time.  Possibly violent, but highly amusing.  He began to think he might actually have to _do_ something when he perked up.

     Galion strode through the room, grim face set, red robes fluttering as he swept past them all, heading for the wine cellar.

     “How much would you wager?” he murmured, glancing at Ruel.

     “Oh, ‘Redh; really?”  Ruel clucked her tongue and sheathed her dagger.  “Don’t pester Galion with your . . . _itch._ ”

     “Agreed,” Elros yawned.  “Galion’s our friend.  Don’t . . . just don’t.”

     “And I’ve not rolled with our friends before?”

     Elros winced.  “Yes, well . . . Galion’s one of the only friends we have who has the king’s ear.  I wouldn’t suggest annoying him.  Not a good idea.”

     _Not a good idea._   Practically a beacon.  Eredhon grinned.  “Oh, please.  He’ll be flattered someone like _me_ gives him a second thought.”  He leaned in and smirked.  “I’ll bet this will be the most action his prick has seen in _centuries._ ”

     Now that the thought was in his head, he didn’t think he could dislodge it.  It wasn’t as though he hadn’t considered it before.  Eredhon rarely cared the age of his bedmates; only whether or not it would be an enjoyable night.  Galion was far older than the rest of the crew but always appeared willing to support the younger elves around him.  Being wine steward to the king didn’t hurt, either.

     And then, well, there was Galion himself.  _Striking._   Eredhon could admit a much _baser_ urge when it came to the older elf.  There had to be something to him given his closeness with King Thranduil.  Rumor had it, he’d been a close confidant of Oropher as well.  Tall, dark haired, light eyed.  He wasn’t a fighter but he often accompanied Thranduil on missions which meant he was competent in some manner.  So he might not run with the scouts now, but he likely did at one point.

     Ruel and Elros exchanged a look, grimacing.  “He has a point, ‘Redh.  He may not be as pleased with you doing . . . what you do.”

     Mind made up, Eredhon waved away their protests.  “If you hear screaming and weeping in joy, don’t be surprised if he doesn’t show his face later.”  He flipped a tail of hair over one shoulder.  “I assure you, he will thank me for this.”

      Elros sighed and shook his head.  “Well, I’ll make certain your burial is a nice one.”

     _Well, that’s as good as a dare._   He stood, tossing his apple to Elros and snickering when the elf fumbled and nearly fell from his chair.  “Don’t wait up for me,” he teased, sauntering off after Galion.

     Whistling brightly, he headed toward the wine cellars, certain that had been Galion’s destination.  The temperature lowered as he neared the wine barrels and his whistling faded, his footsteps taking over.  He could see why Galion preferred it down here.  Quiet and dark.  Pleasant, in its way.  And as he’d expected, Galion was waiting, feet up on the table like Eredhon only a few moments before, scribbling on a pad of parchment.

     “Eredhon,” he drawled, not looking up, “no wine at the moment.  Go away.”

     “Why, Galion, I’d almost think you disliked seeing me,” he remarked, fluttering his eyelashes.  “What if I said I was here for . . . something headier than the king’s wine?” he purred.  Strangely, seeing Galion so relaxed set off a nervous flutter in his stomach.  Which made little sense.  What in Arda did he have to be nervous about?  A throw with another elf was what made living so enjoyable!

     Galion’s writing paused.  He still hadn’t looked up as he resumed his work, though his quill moved slower now.  With a snort, he commented, “If I didn’t know any better, ‘Redh, I’d think you just made a pass at me.”  He looked up then, golden eyes narrow.

     Eredhon’s nervous flutter came back with a vengeance.  He forced a sultry smile, his palms sweating as he leaned against the doorway.  “And, if I did?  One would think you _elated_ that someone as _virile_ as myself would show an ounce of interest in someone as old as _you_.”

     Eyebrow lifted, Galion set his parchment aside and dropped his feet to the floor.  He unfolded, hands clasped at the small of his back.  “Elated, hm?” he mused, stalking toward Eredhon.

     Eredhon struggled not to move.  Galion stood a few inches taller and slouched against the wall as he was, he was forced to look up to the older elf.  Before he could taunt the steward a second time, Galion grabbed his chin and yanked him into a harsh kiss.

     _Oh, Valar,_ he whined.  His fingers found purchase on Galion’s robes, tangling tight in the soft fabrics as the other elf pushed him up against the wall.  Galion’s lips were warm and sweet, fitting against his impossibly well.  And he most certainly did _not_ whimper when Galion’s tongue slid past his own lips.  Nor did he tug harder on the steward’s robes when a firm arm snaked around his waist.

     And he certainly _did not_ whine when Galion pulled back.

     Galion’s mouth curled as he stroked his thumb across Eredhon’s slack lips.  “Perhaps we should see who would _most_ be elated, hm?”

     _Oh, shit,_ Eredhon thought, his knees threatening to buckle.  He _might_ have stepped in it this time.  He’d expected Galion to react as most did; slightly flattered and then they’d both strip, roll about, then go their separate ways.  But, Galion’s hands were hard and tight on his waist and it took the older elf little effort to maneuver him away from the doorway, into the wine cellar proper. 

     “You’ve gone quiet,” Galion pointed out.  He dropped his hands to Eredhon’s arse and squeezed tight. 

     He yelped, only to add a glare at Galion’s chuckle.  Any retort he had broke when his arse hit the table and he fell atop it with a squawk.

     Galion leaned over him, face flush and eyes dark.  He knocked Eredhon’s legs open, nestling himself between them.  “Virile, correct?  That the word you used?”

     Eredhon swallowed, nodding dumbly.  Had he honestly thought Galion wouldn’t be responsive?  Even now, the gold eyes gleamed like burnished coins.  His dark hair fell along his shoulders in waves.  If he’d thought Galion striking before, he was nearly irresistible now.

     The steward leaned close and licked the tip of Eredhon’s nose.  “Pay attention.  I’ve a lesson to teach you.”

     “L-lesson?” he choked.  He squirmed as Galion tugged on his belt.  The material gave quickly and ended up cast to the floor along with Galion’s heavy red robes.  Underneath the finery, he wore a simple tunic and trousers.  The latter of which did little to hide his obvious interest.

     Back on his home turf, Eredhon bit his bottom lip, hooking his legs over Galion’s hips.  He loosened the ties of Galion’s tunic, careful to keep his gaze even with the other elf’s.  “If that lesson is ‘Galion indeed has a libido,’ lesson learned.”  He gasped when Galion snatched his wrists and pinned his arms to the table.

     Without a word, Galion seized his mouth, growling even as he rocked his groin into Eredhon’s.  In response, Eredhon’s legs tightened, his hands flexing under Galion’s tight grip.  This was very much unlike any other tryst he’d had.  His lovers were always more than willing to let Eredhon’s hands wander.  Galion, however, didn’t have any such inclination.  Which only made Eredhon harder.

     He was well-versed in giving a lover what they needed, whether they knew it or not.  As a result, he had a tendency to take control in intimate situations.  It was clear, however, that Galion did not intend that to be how things went. 

     Even so, his hands loosened as he released Eredhon’s mouth.  “Now, then,” he rasped.  “Will you be good and keep your hands where I want them?”

     Eredhon shivered and nodded.  He licked his lips and stretched his arms over his head, locking his hands together.  “Good?” he purred, tightening his legs again.

     Galion quirked an eyebrow.  “Better,” he corrected.  He lifted himself and turned his attention back to Eredhon’s clothing.  He tugged open the trousers, but made no move to take hold of Eredhon.

     “You _have_ seen more than just your own, right?” Eredhon asked, bucking his hips to make his prick bounce.  He _ached_ from what little Galion had done to him but that didn’t mean he was ready to simply lie back and take it. 

     “I’ve seen better,” Galion retorted.

     Eredhon sat up, glowering.  “Hardly!”

     Galion pointed at him.  “Down.”  He smirked.  “Or, we can stop?”

     Pouting, Eredhon resumed his flop on the table, his arms outstretched once again.  “I’ll have you know, mine is a work of art!”  He squeaked when a warm, wet tongue dragged from his bollocks to the wet, reddened tip of his cock.  “ _Galion!”_

     “Shh,” Galion cautioned.  He nudged Eredhon’s legs down and dragged the trousers off along with his boots.  “I would _hate_ for us to be interrupted,” he stated.  His gold eyes narrowed for a moment before he reached down and pulled Eredhon up off the table.  “I have somewhere else I’d like you to be.”

     Eredhon looped his arms around Galion’s neck and kissed him hungrily.  “You can take me here; I won’t complain,” he promised, thrusting against Galion’s thigh.  “Think about it, Steward,” he husked.  “Every time you sit at this table, you’ll remember _fucking_ me.”

     Galion said nothing, only slid his hand into Eredhon’s hair and kissed him again, mouth moving slow and sure.  Some of Eredhon’s cockiness faded and he whimpered, trying to speed things up but every time he did, Galion would gentle and almost pull away.  Aching and frustrated, he bit Galion’s bottom lip, growling, “Stop _teasing!_ ”

      “Then where would my fun be?” Galion replied, resuming his torture.

     Eredhon almost snarled at Galion but his body appeared to enjoy the elf’s ministrations.  His skin flushed warm, sweat beading on his forehead.  Sweat usually happened in the _midst_ of sex, not beforehand.  And Galion’s fingers remained warm and steady on his scalp, his lips soft, tongue slick and demanding.  He shuddered, leaning into Galion, muscles tight and prick _screaming_ for attention. 

     Yet, for all his experience in the bedroom, _this_ was altogether different.  Galion was in _no_ hurry to take him.  He’d dropped a hand to Eredhon’s arse, squeezing almost possessively.  And . . . he _liked_ it.  Given the way he swayed toward Galion, he _craved_ the slow strokes and deep kissing.  His eyes fell shut and he moaned, arching against Galion, his cock rubbing against the rough leather of Galion’s trousers. 

     Galion let go of Eredhon’s mouth and kissed a trail to his ear, murmuring, “We’ve not far to go.  My quarters are just around the corner, I promise.”

     “And then sex?” Eredhon asked, his brain turning to mush.

     The other elf chuckled, patting his bare arse.  “And then sex.  I assure you.”

     Eredhon hummed in agreement and let Galion lead them down a short hall that branched off the main storeroom.  Given his quarters were far away from the rest of the residences, Eredhon had expected little more than a cot and possibly a clothes chest.  What he saw however, stunned him.

     Galion’s room was well appointed, large and lush.  Soft, shining fabrics lay atop the bed at the far wall and collection of heavy oaken furniture graced the wall to his left.  He shivered when Galion chuckled.  The older elf pulled him back, brushing his hair away to kiss his neck.  His eyes fluttered and he whimpered at the tender touch.

     “You seem surprised,” Galion commented, dropping his hands to the apex of Eredhon’s thighs.  He massaged the skin there but still appeared unwilling to take hold of Eredhon proper.  “Didn’t think a lowly steward could own such finery?”

     He woke up then.  Almost angry, he spun in Galion’s grip.  “I don’t find you lowly!”  He reddened at the surprise in Galion’s eyes. 

     The golden gaze softened and Galion reached up, stroking Eredhon’s cheek.  Almost a caress.  “You are possibly one of the few,” he mused.

     Leaning into the touch, Eredhon licked his lips, struggling to keep his senses.  “The king clearly doesn’t think that of you.”  He moved with Galion, pacing back as the elf directed him toward the bed.  “Neither does my squad.”

     “I know that, ‘Redh,” he whispered.  “It’s why I value you.  All of you.”

     Eredhon’s legs hit the bed and he gripped Galion’s tunic.  “This isn’t pity,” he blurted, face aflame.  He didn’t know why but he wanted desperately for Galion not to see this is a mercy throw.  That he _wanted_ Galion to take him. 

     Galion chuckled and eased him onto the bed, crawling atop him.  “I’m aware, ‘Redh.  If it was a pity fuck, we’d already be done,” he growled, sealing his mouth over Eredhon’s again.

     _Oh, blessed Valar, yes_! he whined, arching against the elf.  He dropped his hands to tug on Galion’s trousers, wanted them off and wanting _him_ desperately.  “You’re wearing too much,” he admonished into the kiss.  “You can’t fuck me with trousers on,” he chided.

     Galion pulled away from the kiss and kneeled above Eredhon on the bed, silently shucking his tunic before undoing his trouser laces.

     Eredhon’s desire only tripled.  As he’d expected, Galion was well-defined and fit.  He might be a bit of a souse as Thranduil’s wine steward but the elf was certainly capable given the liquid shift of muscle and skin.  He stroked his hands along Galion’s midriff, grinning when the elf jumped at the touch.  “So, who gets to enjoy _this_ daily?” he teased, biting his lip.

     Galion’s humor tempered some.  “None,” he admitted.  He shifted off of Eredhon to remove his trousers, giving Eredhon time to toss his own tunic over the side of the bed.  He stepped to the bureau behind him and picked up a glass container, tossing it onto the bed.  When Galion returned to him, Eredhon leaned up, kissing Galion’s chest and licking the firm muscle. 

     “My gain then,” he purred.

     “For a few minutes, I suppose,” Galion returned.

     _Not if it’s like this,_ Eredhon thought.  His fingers tightened on Galion at the idea.  He rarely, if ever, repeated partners.  Well, there was Ruel but Ruel was also his dear friend.  He never really thought of her in the same light as the others.  But this?  Oh, Valar.  Could he honestly stay away from _this_?  Not thinking, he mewled, “Whenever I want?” scraping his nails along Galion’s sides.

     The elf didn’t answer right away and Eredhon feared he’d ruined their fun when his wrists were captured a second time and pushed into the plush bed.  “Whenever you want,” Galion agreed.  Looming over Eredhon, he arched an eyebrow.  “And with how many would I share that privilege?”

     Heart thudding, Eredhon murmured, “Only you.”

     Galion’s gaze softened again, deeper and darker now.  “Ah.  I like this agreement, ‘Redh.”  He shifted back, kissing and licking Eredhon’s chest as he did.  “But I know you,” he sighed.  “I know what you like and wouldn’t dream of stopping you from doing it.”  He sucked on a peaked nipple, nibbling it before letting go.  “If you wish to return, my door is open to you; it will never be shut.”

     The sincerity in the words made him squirm worse than the teeth and lips.  Of his past lovers, there had been one or two who had tried to demand something more from him.  Some form of permanence.  Which only sent him fleeing for the door.  But Galion’s acceptance seemed all the more frightening.  He swallowed, lifting his eyes to the ceiling as Galion slid down his body, his skin scorching with each nip and lick.  _Oh, Valar, let me keep this,_ he found himself thinking.  He shoved the thought down hard, however, not willing to examine it long.

     “However,” he tossed up, his voice rough, “all for naught if you never fuck me.”

     Galion glared at him.  “One day, Eredhon, that mouth of yours will get you into trouble.”

     He grinned, licking his lips luridly.  “Mmm.  Promise?”

     Still holding his gaze, Galion took hold of him, running his thumb hard over the head of Eredhon’s prick until he whined and squirmed.  “Oh, I guarantee it, ‘Redh.”  He smirked.  “Though, it seems I know _just_ how to keep you quiet.”

     Eredhon couldn’t even string enough words together for a retort as Galion crouched down, taking his prick into his mouth.  He gasped, half sitting up, fingers clenched on the blankets.  This event rarely rose in his dalliances.  He spent most of his time focusing on his partner so it rarely ended up reciprocated.  That Galion was already in his lap, sucking at him so deliberately, left him reeling.

     He bit his lip, nearly in pain as he watched Galion’s mouth stretch over his cock, cheeks hollowing with each long suck.  “G- _Galion,_ ” he sobbed, reaching down to latch his fingers in that dark hair.  He clenched, throwing his head back.  _Oh, Valar.  Oh, Eru!_   He dug his heels into the bed, tugging hard on Galion’s hair. 

     Another yelp and he was on his back, that warm, wet heat gone from his prick and Galion hovering over him, lips reddened and slick.  “Galion?” he murmured.  It was then he realized the elf had pinned his hands again above his head.  He frowned and wriggled.  “I want to touch!” he whined.

     Galion’s fever-hot eyes narrowed in amusement.  “Why do you think I want them to stay there?  You’ll touch soon enough; when I allow it.”

     He wanted to argue.  To knock Galion back and simply sink onto the elf’s cock and get this all _over with._   To his own surprise, however, he laced his fingers and nodded.  “I’ll be good,” he breathed.  He lifted one leg, rubbing his calf along Galion’s firm arse.  “I promise,” he purred.

     The other elf watched him a moment longer before smirking and slinking down Eredhon’s body a second time.  He wrapped slender fingers around Eredhon’s cock and suckled on the tip, his tongue pressing hard against the nerves.

     He had to clench his fingers in the blankets to keep from reaching for Galion again.  He spread his legs atop the bed, letting his hips pump slow against Galion’s mouth.  He couldn’t very well stop it.  That blissful, tight wetness.  He swore when Galion’s arm pinned him down.  Glowering at the other elf, he swiped at the hair in his eyes.  “Quit teasing!”

     Mouth still occupied, Galion only winked and continued his play, transferring his lips to Eredhon’s bollocks and leaving them damp and tight.  He moved again, sucking at the hot skin of his shaft.  “I thought you liked to tease,” he remarked, licking the beads of pre-come that dripped.

     Squirming under Galion’s strength, Eredhon glowered.  “I do but . . .” he fell back with a moan when Galion pressed a knuckle to the sensitive skin behind his bollocks.  _Dammit._   If Galion kept this up, he’d lose all sense of speech soon.

     “You do but . . . you’re usually the one who taunts, aren’t you?”  Keeping one warm hand on Eredhon’s bollocks, Galion leaned up, reaching over to retrieve the jar he’d dropped.  He held it out toward Eredhon.  “Open.”

     Vision blurry, he complied, the soft scent of the salve filling the room.  Finally.  _Finally._   Both of Galion’s hands moved from him and he wriggled into a comfortable position, ready to be taken.  And while he expected the other elf to prep him, he certainly didn’t expect more of that hellacious torment.  He gasped at the odd warmth of the salve as Galion slid a finger inside him, just as slow in his movements as he’d been this entire time.

     “Galion!” he whined.  “Don’t you do anything fast?”

     The elf chuckled and kissed his hip, stroking the tight skin of his arsehole.  “Hm, I suppose I could move faster.  But you should see yourself, ‘Redh.”  His dark, gold eyes pinned Eredhon.  “Hair a mess, chest flush, lips bitten.”  He nipped Eredhon’s thigh and slid two fingers in, moving just as slow.  “Why would I want to remove that so quickly?”

     “But I _want_ you!” he moaned, face flushing red at the words.  And to his muted horror, he meant that.  He wanted Galion _desperately._ In a way he’d not felt for a long while.  Oh, certainly, he wanted his previous partners but not like this.  Not in the way his body _ached_ for Galion.  How his hands seemed to find all the places that made him weak.  His talented mouth.  His laugh, his eyes.  And again, he shied away from the thoughts, nervous as to their truth.

     Galion nuzzled his thigh.  “And you’ll have me.  When you’re ready.”  All the while, he kept tugging and stretching the tight skin, slicking the entrance well and generally doing his brilliant best to drive Eredhon insane.

     He threw every swear he could think of at Galion but the bastard only kept on as he was, working him open and occasionally, sucking hard on his prick.  It shouldn’t have felt that good.  It shouldn’t have made feel so deliriously _high._   _Oh, Valar,_ he whined.  _He’s easily a ten._   He blinked at that.  _Nine-and-a-half; mustn’t slight the king._   He almost snickered at that only to choke on a moan as a third finger slid into his slicked-up hole.

     How in Arda was Galion so steady?  He’d seen the elf’s prick, thick and ruddy and _ready._   He had to be in pain, right?  So why did he keep dragging this out?  Why did he insist on leaving Eredhon a panting, writhing mess?

     _It’s almost like he cares that I enjoy this._   When the words registered, his eyes snapped open.  Was it as simple as that?  It was often the mindset he settled in with his lovers.  Make certain they enjoyed what transpired.  But, he’d never heard of Galion hopping from bed to bed.  Maybe . . . maybe that meant he was serious about all this?

     “I can’t take it,” he whimpered, unsure of if he meant the torment or the thoughts spinning in his head.

     Galion took pity on him and removed his fingers.  “Impatient,” he chided, even though his fingers quivered as he slathered more salve on his prick, sighing as he did.  He pushed Eredhon’s legs into position, letting his cock press easily into that waiting hole.

     Eredhon keened as Galion slid inside, stretching his skin in that pleasant ache he so loved.  “Damn, damn, _damn,_ ” he gasped, locking his legs around Galion’s waist, trying to pull him in deeper as he did.  The other elf said nothing, only growled and shifted back, nearly drawing out completely.

     Before Eredhon could complain, his hips jerked forward, rocking into him. 

     _“Eru, yes!_ ” he shouted, clutching at Galion.  He dug his nails into that broad back, kissing him desperately as Galion repeated the motions, each time faster and harder.  He hiked his legs higher, the change in position letting Galion drive ever deeper.

     The sounds were the same; the curses and harsh breaths.  The grunts and slap of wet skin.  But . . . it was more than _fucking._   Eredhon squeezed his eyes shut, letting his head fall back as Galion moved inside him.  _Oh, Eru_ , so much more than fucking.  Pleasure sparked along his nerves, his prick trapped between them and throbbing yet he had no desire to touch it, loving instead the agony of the ache.  His belly quivered with that deep need and he mewled, shifting to nip Galion’s naked shoulder. 

     The action spurred Galion on and he moved faster, rocking them both atop the bed.  The steward’s voice, so familiar and deep, whispered nonsense in his ears and he struggled for breath, falling under the spell.  He didn’t care what Galion had to say; only that he wished to say it.  He wanted _anything_ Galion would give him.

     Galion pushed Eredhon’s hair from his neck and fastened his mouth to the racing pulse, sucking hard and wet against the skin.  His growls as he moved vibrated along Eredhon’s flesh, racing toward his straining prick.  To Eredhon’s surprise, the other elf wriggled his free hand between them, squeezing Eredhon’s trapped cock.

     Eredhon didn’t mask the scream as he came, his body straining like a bow, tendon and muscle quivering as his prick pumped against his skin.  “G-Gal,” he panted, tightening his legs.  That thick cock still drove into him, his body jerking with each thrust.  He whimpered, clinging to Galion, wondering if it was possible for him to come again so soon. 

     He yelped when Galion lifted his hips, crying out again at the sparks of painful pleasure that coursed through his insides at the rapid pounding.  Galion’s hands dug into his skin and he shouted, holding Eredhon tight as he shivered, coming hard.  Chest heaving, he lowered Eredhon slowly, slipping out with a grunt.

     Eredhon was torn between relief and desire in that moment; his body was still oversensitive and any continued intimacy might very well end him.  But, _by the Valar,_ who knew Galion had _that_ in him?  Sweat and seed clung to his skin, leaving him tacky, but Eredhon could hardly care.  He’d never felt so achingly, dizzyingly _good_.  As though he’d drunk a barrel of Dorwinian on his own and taken out a nest of spiders immediately after.  When Galion sprawled beside him, blowing the hair from his face, he rolled, propping his chin on the older elf’s naked chest.  “So?”

     Galion’s eyebrow quirked and he shrugged.  “Passable.”

     Eredhon grabbed a pillow and slammed it over Galion’s head, burying the cackle of laughter.  Well, clearly they needed another round or three to prove that thought wrong.  Eredhon wasn’t leaving until Galion fixed his thinking; only fair, after all.  Eredhon had a reputation to protect.

**Author's Note:**

> IT WOULD NOT DIE. AT ALL. IT'S DONE NOW. I blame the Mirkwood Trash Squad and Cora.
> 
> [My Tumblr](http://dek-says-so.tumblr.com).


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